


The Anniversary

by AllHerDemons



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 05:22:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHerDemons/pseuds/AllHerDemons
Summary: Dean is working hard at being retired, but there are other plans in the works.





	1. Chapter 1

It's a dive bar. It's dirty. It smells. The bathrooms are unusable, but the atmosphere is why he comes here. The drinks are cheap and strong. The music is exactly what he likes and the jukebox never stops playing.

He's not a regular patron, far from it. It's a place to reflect, to think, to clear his head, and to get blind drunk. He only needs it a few times a year now, which is an improvement from the beginning.

Tonight is one of those nights. Actually this one night, every year, the same date, he can be found here.

He sits at the end of the bar, on the corner, next to the waitress' station. He avoids the tables and booths. From the stool he can see all the doors and the one filthy window facing the parking lot. He steals cherries when he can, winks and smiles at the hard-working waitress, and can always catch the bartender's eye.

I knew he came here, and I left it alone. I understood that he needed his space afterwards, we all did, and I buried myself in my work for a while.

Time passed and I got curious. He had been quiet. Very quiet. I began to make inquiries, pulling in the little bit of information I could find. He was warding himself well. I couldn't blame him though. I was even a little proud that he could.

The tidbits were vague. He was here for a while. He had showed up over there, done a few things, and then disappeared again. Even now, he continued to make a difference, to help people.

The one location that kept popping up was this bar. So that's where I went.

I was there when he arrived. He came through the double swinging doors just like an old time cowboy, pausing to scan the room before entering all the way. The ever-present untucked flannel, covered by the drab olive green military surplus jacket he had picked up after losing his beloved black leather one, battered jeans, and dusty work boots.

In a crowd he would only stand out because of his height, but in this place, no one took notice. That explained some of the other reasons why he came here.

He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up, as he prowled down the bar. A nod to the bartender, as he slid onto his stool, got him a beer. It was still early.

I relaxed slightly. He hadn't noticed me. I had given him space, per his request, and I felt a twinge of guilt for invading his safe place, especially on this night.

The bartender moved down the bar to bring his beer and they exchanged words I couldn't make out. It was a short, intense conversation, where the bartender kept tugging on his ponytail and grimacing.

I waited as he sipped several beers and then switched to shots. It was a good sign that he was not shooting them. I decided to take a chance and moved to a stool at the bar.

The atmosphere had gotten louder as more patrons appeared. Pool games were beginning to include money. A few couples were dancing on a postage stamp dance floor. It washed over him without impact. Nothing could touch him tonight.

I contemplated saying something, even at the risk of recognition, but his cell buzzed on the bar.

The call must have been expected because he snatched it almost faster than I could blink. "Yeah?" His face relaxed for the first time. "I know, Sammy." He dug his fingers through his hair again. He sighed, his face tightened. "I get it, alright?! But, look, you do your thing and I'll do mine." A long-suffering sigh this time. "Yeah, I'll call." He tossed the cell on the bar, picked up the waiting shot, and slammed it. There was a replacement there before the empty one came down. He nodded his thanks and held the full one for a moment.

"Brothers, huh?"

"Wha...? Are you talking to me?" I asked.

"Yep." He slammed the fresh one. "You have any?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that. "I have a lot of family drama."

"Uh-huh." He signaled for two and slid one over to me. "To family. May they be the death of us." We drank.

The liquor scorched my lips, burned a path down my throat, and blossomed into a flame in my belly. I exhaled deeply. This time I signaled the bartender.

"Problems?" I asked, clinking glasses before tipping the shot back. The warmth in my center grew.

He snorted, tossed his shot back, and slammed the glass down. "Yeah, you could say that." Then he sighed. "More like a difference of opinion. My brother thinks there are times to let things go and just move forward. You can't change the past, so why keep thinking about it, you see?" He shrugged. "He always did see the big picture. Me? I was always just the grunt."

I could feel my jaw clench. He still believed his words. "A grunt?" I asked.

His laugh was hard. "Yeah, the one who follows orders, does all the dirty work. The expendable one." He smiled at the waitress as she filled her tray.

"So you just follow orders?" I signaled for a beer, shots were going to be too much.

"I did." Another shot sat in front of him. "Take care of Sammy, watch over him, protect him. Dad never told me why, but I was never good enough." He blew out a sigh. "I failed Sam so many times."

"Didn't you just talk to him?"

"Yeah. He said he'd come out to celebrate, commemorate, commiserate, or whatever, tonight. But he's staying in with his family instead."

"His family? Not yours?" I knew I was on shaky ground now.

"His girl," was all he said.

"Ahh...." I picked up my beer and noticed it's surface trembled slightly. I set it down softly. I was working hard to keep my emotions under control.

Time passed as I struggled for calm and control, and he continued to get drunk. The alcohol was finally washing over him, settling in the relaxing of his shoulders, the way he sat on the stool with one foot on the floor and one foot up, propping himself on the bar with an elbow, head in his hand, and he twirled an empty shot glass with his fingers. His eyes were still sharp though, he was far from blind drunk.

"She was always good for him, ya know?" He picked up the conversation again. "She never knew she was supposed to just be a tool to be used against him. Neither of them knew that."

"Tool?" I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly. "Are you talking about a past girlfriend or the one you just mentioned?" Apparently I wasn't paying close enough attention to his train of thought.

"Yeah, she was supposed to be bait to get him back in the Game. The boss man offered her up as sacrifice to get Sammy's attention." His hand was shaky as he downed the shot.

"Sacrifice?" Now I realized what he was getting at, but I wanted to see how far down his walls were coming. "I don't understand."

"Ha!" It was a hard bark. "Yeah, tell me about it." He shot me a long side glance. "Are you a religious man?"

That sat me straight up. I hadn't expected something like that. I guess I always assumed he would be able to see through me sooner or later and know I was there. I hadn't realized he wasn't looking anymore. "Religious?" I drew out the word. "No. I have faith."

That barking laugh came out again. He wasn't amused though. "Faith. That word. I could go the rest of my life without hearing that word and be the happiest man in the world. Faith." The disgust dripped off the word. My heart ached for him. I had left him for far too long.

He drew a deep breath and sighed it out. "But I can respect that over a religious man."

"My brother was Chosen as a pawn between the forces of the High and Mighty and the forces of Evil. Chosen before birth. Poor kid never had a chance really. But they didn't count on my father never giving up on revenge, or me being such a good grunt and keeping him safe. Even from himself."

"I did everything I could to save him, even went to hell, and I couldn't even do that right. My FATHER lasted 100 years and never cracked, and I couldn't even make it 40. It was my fault that first seal cracked and Sammy ended up in the Cage in the end. Because of me. I wasn't strong enough."

He wasn't really talking to me at this point. Truthfully, this was probably a good thing. I knew my side of things, and most of the other side, but there is a handicap with Free Will. It's the Freedom. It can't be predicted. And the results are almost never what you expected, including the lasting fallout.

This was starting to explain the weight on his shoulders more than anything else ever could. He saw everyone else as more important than himself, that he was a bit player, just a cog. He never had learned to widen his gaze enough to see the big picture.

"And your brother has never gotten past that?" I knew where his monologue would go if I let him and I didn't think I was ready for that. Yet.

"Huh?" For the first time, his gaze was a little glassy. "No, he moved past that just fine. Although we all went through Hell and back to get through it." He snorted. "Hell and back....." He actually giggled. "Lucifer on your back, instead of a monkey...." He put his head down on the bar. His shoulders shook.

I hadn't expected this. Anything else, but not this. I didn't know what to do. I actually didn't know what to do. This was a first for me. I wanted to do something, anything, to make this man feel better about the horrific things he was allowing to spill out, and I couldn't think of one thing.

He lifted his head.

He was laughing.

He was blind drunk.

"You know, it was just us, for so long, just the two of us." He lifted a shaky finger to the bartender, who brought him a beer, not a shot. He frowned, but shrugged. "Then there were three of us. A family of sorts, after all our other family was taken, stripped away." He sighed. "We saved the world so many times, and in so many ways, it amazes me that this planet is still spinning like nothing's happened. Like we didn't do anything. Bad things keep happening."

"And now your brother is turning away from this?" This was risky, really risky, it all depended on how drunk he really was.

"Huh? No. He's gone. He's with his girl. Weren't you listening?" Two hands to lift the beer this time.

"What do you mean, gone?" Moment of truth.

"He found his little slice of Heaven and he putting down roots. Oh, he still helps out, every now and then, but he doesn't come out to play anymore. He says the world is strong enough to survive without him, with just me to save it. Ha! Like I can save the world by myself."

I had had enough. I set my beer down with a clink that echoed through the bar. The jukebox fell silent, everyone froze, and time stopped.

I was going to wait him out. Wait for the quiet to pierce his alcohol-addled brain, for him to realize what had happened.

I was wrong.

He straightened up. His shoulders snapped back, and his gaze sharpened to a knife edge. The corner of his mouth tightened.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up."


	2. Chapter 2

I was stunned. Did he really know? Was this a shot in the dark? I knew he was, and always had been, the greatest Hunter of all Time and this world's salvation on so many different levels, but had so I greatly underestimated him??

"Look, I know it's you. Just come on out and play, okay? Quit this skulking around in a spare meat suit."

He always had a way with words when he wanted to.

I sighed. "How did you know?"

"I've been waiting. After everything, I knew you wouldn't leave me alone indefinitely. You'd get curious and start looking. I'm grateful you've given me this long. I needed it. The time to settle myself for when you did come. To be ready." This time his signal got a shot, and the beer disappeared.

That threw me. "Be ready for what?" I asked. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"For the end. My end. Sammy got his Happy Slice of Heaven, but me? Nooooo, I get thrown back and told to go back to work. I figured you'd be around sooner or later to tell me I was finally done."

He slammed the shot. "Because I am sooooo done."

"I can't do this alone anymore."

"Yes, you can." I hated pointing this out.

"Yeah, well, I don't WANT to do this alone anymore."

"The world needs you."

He froze. His green eyes finally lifted from the shot glass in his hand and met mine. I let him lock eyes with me. I saw his longing to be with his brother. I saw his anguish over all the mistakes in his life, the people he had lost, the loves that never stood a chance, and those he had not been able to save. All that pain. All that misery. The constant choice of who lives and who dies. This Hero who thought himself a Grunt.

"You're not Cas."

"No."

"No?" The anguish was filling him. His expectation crushed. Everything he thought was wrong.

I was hurting him. On purpose. For a purpose. I hated that.

"No. I'm not Cas."

He tried to recover. He knew now. He had played the wrong cards, the wrong game, all of it so beautifully written out for a specific audience, who didn't show.

I settled back on my bar stool, with my beer, and cocked my head at him. "You know, I tried to explain things to you. I know you've seen and heard what I told you throughout most of your life, but I never thought you didn't get it."

He was cracking. I could see it. His plan falling to pieces, scattered like sand. He was vulnerable now. Finally.

"You are the Wall, Dean. You are the barrier through which evil cannot harm this world. You are the monster that the monsters fear in the dark. Your name invokes ripples through the halls of Heaven and the dungeons of Hell. You are the Legacy."

"You were NEVER a grunt. Your father was blinded by revenge, his thirst for it knew no limit. Your brother was, is, your heart and soul. You were his father and mother for his whole life. You gave him chances he never would have had without you. He earned his Heaven, because of you. And he did it, because he knew that you wanted him safe and happy and somewhere none of the Dark could ever touch him again."

"This night isn't about his leaving, it's about your rebirth."

"You are a Hunter. THE Hunter. And your work is not finished."

He sat there, eyes fixed on mine, a single tear slid down his cheek.

He was finally listening.

"But I'm tired. I'm alone. I've lost everyone."

"No. You sent them away. You wanted them to be safe, so you sent them away."

He sighed.

"You know the nature of this Life. You know that there are no Old Hunters, and yet, here you are. You did so much of this all on your own. You figured out so many things without anyone else. You are the one who was always at the Center. They all revolved around you."

He wouldn't look at me now.

"It's time to start anew."


	3. Chapter 3

He was completely broken. His walls were down. The pain in his eyes was devastating me as he met my gaze. I didn't want to do this to him. I wanted to let him rest, but he wasn't made for that. I didn't make him for that. He was my WALL and he needed to fully realize what that meant.

"I can't do this anymore." He was pleading now.

I sighed. I hate being the "parent" sometimes. "This is what you were meant to do, Dean. I may have created the Path that led here, but everyone who went down it did so of their own accord. That's what Free Will is. I can point you in the direction that I want, but, ultimately, which way you go is your decision."

He sighed. "I never had a choice. Dad made sure of that."

"Bullshit." He flinched. "You've had many opportunities to choose different. You didn't have to go get Sam to help find your dad. You could have told Cas no when he came to get you. You could have told the entire world to fuck off at any point along any of the roads you have driven that car of yours down."

"It was never a choice when it came to Sammy. It was my job to watch over him. To protect him. To keep him safe. He would have ended up dead somewhere on that Stanford campus if I hadn't gone to get him. All of this I did for him! To keep him safe!"

Again, I slammed my glass down.

"You are so full of crap! You did all of those things for yourself!" He held my gaze for several seconds before he broke and looked away. I softened my voice. "But I get it. Being who you are, who you are REALLY, is hard, it's lonely. I get that having Sammy around, even though he was an additional responsibility, was a way to not have to think about what this Path was doing to you. How it was changing you."

"Having the Mark really gave you a glimpse of who you would be without all those people that you are scared to have around you. Without them to ground you and keep the Human side of you from disappearing, that's who you would be."

His shoulders shuddered at the mention of the Mark. His left hand unconsciously grabbed his right forearm.

"Lucifer was supposed to keep Amara in check. He was my Wall to keep her from destroying all of this. Then Cain took it on. And he failed, plan and simple, and did it spectacularly. What did they start calling him? The Father of Murder?" I rolled my eyes. That whole situation still just had me sore and pissed. "But you, you took that Mark and just became you, the True You. "

He was pissed now. "There were so many innocent lives I took with that Damn thing on my arm!"

"Really? Innocent? How were they innocent in that house where they took Claire? You cleaned out that whole Stein family, right down to that young man, because they were a threat to humankind. And the Stein boy? He had blood on his hands BEFORE his brother took him to your bunker. I know the history of EVERYONE you've ever killed and none of them were innocent. Not. One. Of. Them."

"Don't you put that on me! That was the Mark! I never gave that kid a chance! I killed a child the same way Cain would have!"

"Don't ever compare yourself to Cain. He wasn't even half the man you are. Period."

I could see him take that in and roll it around. I could see some of that weight he'd been carrying around for years start to slip off his shoulders. He was actually considering that he may not have been a failure all these years.

"Here's the thing, Dean," I leaned toward him, resting my elbows on the bar. "Look around you. Everyone gravitates to you. Good, bad, ugly, they all find you. Because of who you are. You are the Wall. You are my Chosen. No matter how broken you've been, no matter how much you wanted to give up, no matter how much you hated me, I have always believed in you, believed that you can do this, lead this life."

I finally saw it. Hope came flooding back into his eyes, and I silently cursed his father for never saying these things to him, even though I understood why. I could never tell Dean just how much John Winchester had screwed up my plans, how much longer everything took to get Dean to this point, how close to the edge of destruction his father had set my world. Some secrets needed to be kept.

He shot back his drink and set down the glass. It chattered against the bar. His nerves were showing. "Let me get this straight, it's never been about Sam."

"No."

"It's been about me."

"Yep." I sipped my beer.

We sat in silence for a long time. The bar noise washed over us, swirled around and blanketed us in a soft embrace. His shots kept coming and my beers kept flowing. There had been a leveling between us, an understanding (I hoped) had been found, and I felt lighter about the future for my world than I had in eons.

"Sooooo...." Silence.

"Yeah?"

"Your Wall, huh?"

"Yep."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

"I guess I'm in."

"You were never out, Dean."

"Uh-huh, I'm getting that."

"Yep."

"So, what's next?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do now?"

"What you're doing."

"What?"

"Keep doing what you're doing." I sipped my beer calmly.

"But I'm not doing anything." Now he was confused and was getting angry.

"You're missing the point of what I mean. Really, Dean, sometimes I think you do this on purpose." I grabbed a handful of nuts, closed my hand around them, and when I opened my fingers again they were pretzals. At this point I knew I was showing off. I didn't care. I liked pretzals.

"I need you to keep being you. The you that has been saving this world for as long as you've been alive. You don't have to do anything different, just keep carrying on."

"Just keep going?" He shook his head. "I lost everyone who ever helped me. Sam won't give up the Heaven you gave him, Cas is You know where, even Crowley is back running Hell like a well-oiled freight train. I've got no one to watch my back."

"Well, Cas is doing something for me, and I think Sam has earned a chance at a life with Jess. Don't you think?"

He stared at his shot glass. "Yeah, I can't argue with what you gave Sam. He's earned that. It's what he's always wanted, and he never had a chance once I walked back into his life."

"No, he didn't." His eyes flashed out at me. "Oh, you can say that, but me, who created all life, can't??" He had the grace to look chagrined.

"I didn't mean...I wasn't...Ah, crap, yeah, you're right. I know you're right." He ran his hand through his hair. "Sam finally has what he's always wanted." He sighed. "I guess being your Wall trumps what I want."

"In what way?" I truly didn't know where this would go. "What DO you want, Dean?"

"Me?" He looked startled. "I've only been asked that once."

"Yeah, I know. So what do you want?"

He stared into his glass for a long time. He was quiet and still for so long, I almost reached out to touch him. "Lisa and Ben."

"Why?"

"Sam always wanted a life with Jess. He would have married her if I hadn't waltzed back into his life with Dad's issues when I did. He should have gone to Law school and gotten his chance at a real life, but I screwed that up. Me? I just went through life thinking I was just the grunt and that's all I was ever going to be. I never considered that I COULD choose something different, because, I guess, if I did then I wouldn't be able to protect Sammy. Nothing came before him, not even dad. But, Lisa and Ben...." He looked up at me, his heart in his eyes. "I've never asked, I've never wanted to know, until now, but...... is he mine?"

He was ready. Finally, he was ready. Everything that I had laid out, all the plans I had made, came down to this moment. It didn't matter how long it had taken or all the crap he had waded through to get here, he was finally here.

I set my beer down. I met his gaze as steady as I could, mentally took a deep breath, and snapped my fingers.


	4. Chapter 4

The door to the bar swung open and two men walked in. One was an older man, tall, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, wearing a trenchcoat. The other was younger. Dark haired, sharped eyed, slightly rebellious smirk on his face, wearing a black leather jacket. They came straight to us.

Dean's face was worth of all the agony I had gone through for the last few years. It was priceless. I don't regret that I took pleasure in seeing that shock written so plainly on his features.

"Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Where the hell have you been?! I have prayed and prayed to you and nothing!"

"I'm afraid I told Cas that he couldn't contact you." The anger in his eyes as it washed over me would have crushed a lesser being.

"You WHAT?!!"

"You needed space. No complications. Totally understandable, under the circumstances given the last time we were together. I gave him a job to do."

"Which was what? Ignoring the crap out of me?"

"No. Doing what he's always done for you, for someone else." That got his attention. His focus shifted to the young man.

"Do I know you?"

"I don't know. Cas said we were meeting someone here who could answer some questions about my dad." His voice was soft, respectful, but suspicious. He looked around the bar. "I'm fairly certain my dad never hung out in a place like this though. Cas, this is a waste of time." He turned to go.

"Wait." Dean stood up. "Where did you get that jacket?"

"This thing? My mom picked it up in some old thrift store, said it reminded her of happier times. She never did anything with it, but just left it hanging in the closet. Once or twice I saw her staring at it, like it could answer all her questions."

"Questions?" Dean's voice was shaky.

"Yeah, she had a lot of unanswered questions...." He stopped at the ashen pallor of Dean's face. "What?"

"Had?"

"She died."

Dean collapsed onto his stool. It rocked, but held him up. He ran both hands through his hair. He took a deep breath. "How?" He was braced for anything.

"Cancer."

"Oh."

"It was fairly quick, I guess, but it was hell. She was sure we were going to lose everything when the medical bills started piling up, but then some aunt died and left us her estate, so we were able to get Mom the best care. It was like she didn't want to be treated though. Like, if it wasn't for me, she wouldn't have even fought as hard as she did. But she made it to my graduation, and that was her goal. She died happy and proud of me."

Through all of this, Dean kept crumbling, falling apart with every word that came out of this young man's mouth.

"Aunt?" His voice was shattered. "She didn't have an aunt. Your mom didn't have any family." He glanced at me. I shrugged. I had liked Lisa. She had deserved a break.

"How would you know that?" The young man peered at Dean. "How did you know my mother?" His tone defensive now.

"That's my jacket, Ben. You were never supposed to remember me. You were both supposed to be safe and lead normal, safe lives, and never think about me again. How did she even recognize that jacket?"

"The sun started dying and I started having these dreams, and they scared me, so I went to Mom and told her. She told me they were just dreams. But they wouldn't stop. She finally told me that she was having them too, and we started talking and the more we talked, the more we remembered, and then we both just remembered you......." Ben's voice trailed off. "You left us.... You almost hurt us that night."

Dean shook his head. "No." Ben started backing away. "No, Ben, I had to leave. There were bad things going on, and bad things were coming for me, and they would have killed you and your mom, and I couldn't let them do that. Making you forget me was the only way to keep you safe!"

"Safe for who? Safe for you? Because life sucked without you, and we didn't even know why! We didn't know why we felt like there was this giant hole in our family, no matter where we moved, no matter what we did, there was always a hole in our lives! And now I realize it was because of you! You weren't there!" Ben was pissed now and I realized he had grown up to rival Dean's height and breadth. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Hell."

Ben shook that off. "Don't give me that crap, I mean it, where have you been?!"

Cas put a hand on Ben's shoulder. "He WAS in hell. Several times in fact. He was also in and out of Heaven. He almost went into the Nothing, but didn't." I shook my head a little. Cas could be predictable sometimes.

I raised a hand and all three of them fell silent. "I think we're forgetting why we're here. Although, that reason may not be apparent to all parties at this moment. I have a purpose for all three of you."

That got Dean's and Cas' attention. Dean said, "No." Cas just waited. Ben cocked an eyebrow. Yeah, this was going to be fun.

"Dean, you have a job to do. It's a very important job. The world basically depends on you doing your job. We've discussed this already. Cas, you protect Dean. Ben, you are going to be working with Dean. Dean, Sam will be your Bobby. Unless, you'd like me to pull Bobby out of his nice recliner and put him back to work again?"

Dean stared at me. "You want me to do what with him?!" He was standing now. "There's no way I'm doing to him what my dad did to me! No way," and sat down.

"Ben, what if I told you that all those monster stories you heard as a kid, that all those scary movies that you watched as a teen that made you afraid to go in your closet for weeks," Ben looked sheepish at that. "What if I told you that they were true? That monsters do exist?"

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh."

"Now, what if I told you that THOSE monsters have stories of their own. Stories of the Winchester brothers. Stories that their mothers would tell them... 'Don't go out of our area or the brothers will get you.' 'Don't kill in a pattern or Sam Winchester will figure you out and Dean Winchester will kill you in your sleep.' 'Don't make a mess of things, cause you won't get a second chance if the Winchesters catch wind of you.' What if I told you that the one human ALL monsters are afraid of is sitting right here, in front of you, and that he's your father?"

Ben just stared.

"What if I told you that he had been given a job, by God, to protect this world from monsters, no matter what? That he would do whatever was needed to keep all of you safe and sound through the night? What if I told you that he needed a partner because his brother can no longer carry on? What if I told you that you could help him in this fight?"

I looked at Ben closely. "Would you be interested?"

**Author's Note:**

> This was how I saw the series ending after watching the Season 11 finale. Dean on his own, doing the best he can with what he has, and slowly drowning without his brother and family. I think I wrote this whole thing at a feverish pace in one late night.


End file.
